


Softly Falls Each Snowflake

by Kima



Series: Storybooks And Snowflakes [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kima/pseuds/Kima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Jamie Bennett -- and when I was eight years old, I fell in love with winter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thaw

**Author's Note:**

> The Fabler does not belong to me. He's property of the author of The First Tale, a Russian JackJamie fic over on ficbook.net. I simply borrowed him for the sake of this story... If you understand Russian, I highly recommend it: http://ficbook.net/readfic/459402
> 
> Also, the first chapter is simply an excuse to write porn which will happen in part two.

_  
_My name is Jamie Bennett –- and when I was eight years old, I fell in love with winter. I hadn’t known about it then but by the time I turned fifteen and spent whole nights not being able to sleep because I was dreaming of blue eyes and snow-white hair, I realized that I loved the spirit of winter from the bottom of my heart.

As things turned out by the time I was sixteen, winter loved me just as much. I don’t know anymore who was the first to admit it, who it was to stammer something like “Love you, too”, blushing hard, but that particular Christmas, I didn’t care much for the presents under our tree -– the biggest gift spent the entire Holy Night with me in room.

Summer was even harder to endure now but when winter finally came, it was even better. My friends and my family probably thought I was completely nuts when I ran out of the house at the first sign of a cold breeze and sped to the lake where I had said goodbye to him several years ago. Now I said goodbye every year but his cold kisses that tasted of snowflakes and wind, his cool fingers intertwined with mine and his pale skin under my hands were worth it every time.

I loved winter and winter loved me.

We could have had so much, could have been so much. We were -– for a few short years.

Because when I turned nineteen, it was summer… and I died. It was a summer night and I was alone in my car, driving to college where I wanted to study art and creative writing. I never even saw the car that sped out of the blue and crashed into mine.

I remember pain and blood –- and the bright light of the full moon that shone on my face while my life was draining away. My dying wish on that too hot night was to see my winter spirit one last time. I looked up to the moon and wished and begged for him to grant this.

And the moon answered my prayer though not at all the way I had hoped and prayed for.

When I opened my eyes again, I was stronger, more powerful and much more than I had ever been –- and so much less at the same time because I had no idea who I was. I didn’t know who I was or where I had come from and what I was doing there, on a lone highway in the middle of nowhere. Seeking help, I instinctively looked up to the moon as If I hoped to find answers to all of my unspoken questions there –- and the moon gave them to me by telling me my name and purpose.

I was the Fabler, the story teller, Guardian of children’s faith. And that was what I guarded to the best of my abilities… because in my mortal life of which I had no recollection whatsoever, I myself had never stopped believing in the heroes of my childhood. Tooth Fairy and Sandman, Easter Bunny and Santa Claus, they had always been real for me. And now, it was my job to pass this faith on to the children of the world even if I had never met any of them in my new life.

Before I really knew what happened, ten years had passed. For ten years, I had been wandering the world, invisible to adults but a faithful companion to children, telling stories and spinning new tales. But in all that time, I had been missing something, something important that I couldn’t name. Something that had been dear to me once, that much I knew, but that was lost now just like the memory of who I had been before I became the Fabler.

Ten years passed and I was alone and searching for something I couldn’t name.

* * *

Maybe it was the moon itself that took pity on me or maybe it even were Mother Nature and Father Time who felt sorry for me. But one sticky and too hot night, I crossed ways with a tiny tooth fairy that was carrying a small white tooth. And before I even knew what I was doing, before I could think it through, a quiet voice in the back of my mind whispered:

 _Baby Tooth_.

The tiny tooth fairy stopped dead in her flight and stared at me with wide eyes, one pink and one blue. I had said the words out loud without even realizing it – but to be honest, I was just as shocked as the fairy. The tiny creature had even dropped the tooth she had been carrying.

For a moment, nothing happened, we just stared at each other as if we had both seen a ghost. Then, the fairy let out a high and happy chirp and made a beeline for me where she put her tiny arms around my cheek as best as she could and nuzzled it affectionately. She twittered something I didn’t understand but I didn’t need to know her language to realize that she knew me. Hesitantly, I raised a hand and stroked the shimmering green feathers that covered her whole body. The tiny creature reacted with a quiet cheep before she let go and chirped some more.

She sounded urging.

When I didn’t move, the fairy sped to the ground and picked up the tooth she had dropped and motioned for me to follow her. Then, she buzzed away in a speed I hadn’t thought possible for her. And even though I didn’t know how she knew me or why I had remembered her name (because that was what I had whispered), I followed her. I couldn’t fly like her and had to cross distances through short-ranged teleportation but I never once lost her trail. Something inside me seemed to know exactly where she was going and I let my subconscious lead me.

Somehow, I felt that the tiny fairy was bringing me closer to the thing I had been searching for a decade.

I don’t know how long I was following her –- it could have been a few minutes, maybe hours or even days –- but eventually, we reached a tremendous palace made of gold and shiny pink marble, nestled into the vast mountains of an east-Asian mountain range. Even though I was sure that I had never seen this place before, I instantly knew where I was… At the Tooth Palace of Toothiana, the Queen of the Tooth Fairies.

My fairy chirped something and sped away in a flurry of pink, iridescent wings and green feathers, right into a big circle of her kind. Unsure of what to do, I stayed where I was – on one of the countless platforms that encircled the big columns with billions of stored teeth.

“Excuse me? Who are you?” I flinched and turned around, staring into big, violet eyes with thick and very long lashes. Somewhere in my mind, a distant and long-forgotten memory began to stir –- a child’s room and several people caught in the bright light of a flash light, distant and joyous laughter and the cool and wet touch of a snowflake -– but it disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

I blinked but I knew who was fluttering in front of me, slender and beautiful and covered in green, yellow and even violet feathers, dappled gold and shimmering in the light of the sun. The Tooth Fairy herself.

“I’m the Fabler,” I replied, not even surprised about the fact that she could see me. We were all real to each other, after all. “One of your fairies has led me here.” The Tooth Fairy’s eyes widened, becoming even bigger than they already were. Then, she clapped her hands delightedly.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” she said and whirred closer to take my hands in hers. “You’re keeping the children’s faith in us, aren’t you? You tell them stories about us and spin tales…” I nodded and she smiled, letting go of my hands. “I’m Tooth! But you probably knew that already.” Suddenly, she frowned. “But why should one of my fairies bring you here? Don’t get me wrong, I love company but…” She paused but in that moment, the tiny fairy I had followed here joined us -– I recognized her because there was one yellow feather sticking up from her head, so unlike her kind who all had green ones.

“Baby Tooth,” Toot said, surprised. “You brought him here?” The little fairy chirped affirmatively and twittered on, her mismatched eyes wide as she explained something I didn’t understand. Tooth, on the other hand, listened carefully –- until she clasped her hands over her mouth and exclaimed,

“That’s impossible!” She whirled around to face me again and stared at me, unbelieving, while her violet eyes slowly filled with tears. Shocked, I backed away slightly. What had happened? Tooth shook her head and carefully extended a hand towards me until she touched my cheek.

“Is it… really you…?” she whispered, her thin brows, which almost disappeared entirely beneath her feathers, knitted tightly together.

“Who?” I retorted, feeling uneasy and confused and overwhelmed.

“It… It really is you, isn’t it?”

“…  _Who?_ ” I repeated. Did she know me? Did she know who I was, just like the tiny fairy that had brought me here? Would I finally get the answers that I so desperately wanted,  _needed_?

Tooth backed away from me, very obviously distressed, and seemed to need a moment to recollect. Then, her lips curved into a soft smile.

“He’s been waiting for you. He refused to give up… and now you’re really here.” Questions exploded in my head but before I could even decide which one to ask, Tooth reached out for me again, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears of what, happiness?

“Do you want me to take you to him?”

I had no idea who she was talking about. I had no idea how she knew me or who she thought I was and why she was crying. But I knew that the thing I had been desperately missing for ten years was so close that I could almost feel it.

“Yes.” It wasn’t more than a sigh I heaved, more of a breath than a real answer but it was enough. The Tooth Fairy took my hand and turned to Baby Tooth:

“Lead the way!”

* * *

I can’t remember the following journey. I was too excited, too stunned, too overwhelmed with too many emotions to really pay attention to where Tooth was bringing me until we reached the North Pole. Snowflakes hit my faces in a gust of icy wind and the cold pierced through my entire being –- but for some reason, I didn’t really mind. Quite the contrary, actually, because my heart began to beat wildly as my subconscious mind remembered something I long since couldn’t grasp anymore. Something… happy.

Even before we landed, I knew where we were going –- the workshop of Santa Claus. Just as my feet touched the ground of the balcony inside the giant building, Tooth yelled for someone loudly:

“North! North, come here, quickly! You have to see this!!” North! Santa Claus himself! After having told stories about him for a decade, I was incredibly excited to finally meet him in person. But at the same time, I felt that North wasn’t the person I wanted to see.  _Needed_  to see.

North, huge and broad-shouldered, white beard and white hair, clad in red, stepped through a door on my left and paused, staring at me, before he came up to me, his bushy eyebrows raised so high that they almost touched his hairline.

“Is that…?” he began, bewildered.

“It’s him,” Tooth affirmed with a wide and happy smile. “It’s really him! He’s been right the entire time!”

“ ** _Bozhe moi_** ,” North gasped and shook his head, suddenly grinning. “Boy was really right!”

“Wait here,” Tooth told me. “We’ll get him. He -– he’ll want to see you.” My heart leaped in excitement as the two Guardians turned around and disappeared into the depths of the workshop from which I could hear bustling activity, a constant puttering and grinding, buzzing and hissing. Awed, I looked around while I waited, saw toys and inventions, gadgets and tools, yetis and scurrying elves about whom I had told so many stories without ever having seen them.

Lost in my observation of the never-ending bustle around me, I didn’t notice how Tooth and North returned. I didn’t see who they brought with them. But I heard his voice, heard the half desperate, half relieved whisper that should have been drowned out by the constant noise around us -– but I would have recognized it among a thousand others.

“ _Jamie._ ”

I whirled around and saw him, snow-white hair and cerulean eyes, frost flowers blooming on his clothes, pale skin and deep shadows under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for centuries. And as our eyes met -– azure against chocolate brown -– my lost memories returned to me with such a force that I staggered.

I suddenly remembered snowy days at the lake, snow ball fights and cold kisses, cool touches and the soft burn of love deep in my heart, remembered my past -– and the most important thing of all: I remembered his name.  _Jack Frost_.

My winter spirit.

“Jack,” I breathed, caught somewhere between laughing and sobbing but neither came out because in the next moment, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. Maybe too close because I couldn’t really breathe but at the same time, I couldn’t care less about that minor detail.

Ten years. For ten blasted years we had searched and now we had finally,  _finally_  found each other.

“I knew it,” he whispered against my hair, hugging me tighter. “I knew you’d come back to me.”

* * *

My name is Jamie Bennett. When I was eight years old, I fell in love with winter -– and winter fell in love with me. And just like I had waited for him to come back each year, he had waited ten years for me to return…


	2. Snowfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, it is done. There's more angst and more feels than I originally intended but apparently I have many emotions on this pairing. Also, I haven't written any smut in AGES.  
> I hope you enjoy this anyway! And thank you so much for reading, liking and reviewing this, it means a lot to me.

Cool fingers brush over my cheek, the look in the azure eyes is unbelieving, awed — and yet, there is so much relief, so much love that it takes my breath. I close my eyes, snuggling into his touch.

Ten years. I still can’t believe it.

I have died and I have come back and I have wandered the world for ten years, searching for him and never knowing who he even was — or where. I have known absolutely nothing except for my new name and that it was my purpose to keep alive children’s faith.

But now I’ve got him back, my winter spirit, my best friend — my love.

North and Tooth have had enough tact to lead us to one of the workshop’s countless guest rooms and to take Baby Tooth, crying for joy, with them before closing the door. And here we are now, sitting on a couch that is upholstered with a soft red fabric, a blanket of the same material neatly folded together on one end, in front of each other and not even nearly close enough for my taste. But I don’t dare coming closer, not when he touches me so carefully as if he fears I could shatter beneath his fingers.

While the last few years have been hard for me, I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for Jack. The Man in the Moon has at least granted me the mercy of not remembering anything. But for Jack… Every day, every moment, must have been unbearable, knowing that he had lost me. And still, he never stopped believing that I would come back to him. Because… we always return to each other, he to me and I to him.

I put my fingers over Jack’s and brush a kiss into the palm of his hand, opening my eyes and looking up to him. He looks at me for a moment before the corners of his mouth twitch into a weak smile.

“How did you… get to know?” I whisper. I don’t have the courage to mention my death out loud because I don’t know how Jack will react to it. Because I’m still shocked myself. But he understands. His expression darkens and he replies, not much louder:

“… That winter, I came back extra early, as early as November. I wasn’t there when you got your acceptance letters, I had no idea what college you were in. I went back to your house… naturally, your room was empty. So I — I asked Sophie.”

Sophie! A cold shiver runs down my spine. My little sister, I forgot her, too! My sister and my mother and all my friends… I suddenly feel sick. I can feel a panic attack coming at me — too many memories, to much guilt, too many emotions — but Jack’s hands on both sides of my face jerk me back into reality. Breathing had, I stare at my winter spirit who smiles a bit sadly.

“She’s all grown up now,” he says quietly, his eyes locked into mine so that I can’t look away. “And really pretty, too. Of course she is — she’s your sister.” Despite myself, I let out something that could be a laugh. Jack smiles a bit wider as he continues:

“She just graduated college, you know? Got a degree in creative writing and art.” My eyes fill with tears. That’s what I had wanted to study, back in another life. “She’s currently writing a children’s book… about how Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny and the Sandman teamed up with Jack Frost to defeat the Boogeyman.” This time, I really laugh. Then I ask:

“Are you still visiting her?”

“At least twice every winter – when I return and when I leave. She still believes in all of us, stubborn as a mule.” He pauses for a moment, his smile turning into a grin. “Just wait until she sees you!” My stomach swerves uneasily at that thought.

“… Do you think she… she’ll be able to?” My question is nothing but a whisper that hangs in the air between us. Jack stares blankly at me for a moment and shrugs.

“We’ll just have to make her believe, right?”

“… Right.” We’ve already proven that we can do it. To each other — when I became the first human ever to believe in Jack Frost, and to everybody else — when we called for my friends to join the fight against Pitch.

I raise my hand again to touch Jack’s. I have almost forgotten how it is to feel his cool skin under my fingers; but I’m obviously not the only one. Jack frowns slightly and he looks equally surprised and shocked and relieved, as if he still can’t believe that any of this is real. He lets out a long, shaky breath and whispers:

“They told me to let you go. That things like that just… happen. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t give you up, Jamie.  _God_ , I’ve missed you so much.”

Finally —  _finally —_  he pulls me close and kisses me. I melt into the kiss that is more bruising and desperate than any kiss we have ever shared. There is no tenderness right now, no prudence, just Jack’s cold lips against mine, his hand in my hair and the other curled possessively at my waist. I kiss him back with the same intensity, almost feeling my winter spirit’s exasperation, tasting it — and he tastes just like before, of that special mix of fresh mint and the first snow of winter. I can feel his teeth on my lip and I inhale sharply — the air smells of freshly fallen snow — putting a hand on his neck and pulling him closer to me, deepening the kiss.

It’s still not close enough. I feel ravenous, dying of thirst while I’m drowning in his touches. Too much and yet not enough. Maybe I’ve lost my mind after all?

When we break apart, breathing hard, Jack stares at me like he’s hypnotized while I lick my chapped lips, letting out a long breath I haven’t realized I’m holding. As always after I’ve kissed him, that breath is much colder than the surrounding air — and so it comes out into a small cloud of cold air. I taste blood on my lips but I don’t mind. Quite the contrary, actually.

“I always liked it when you did that,” Jack whispers, his eyes following the little cloud until it disperses. I smile weakly. It’s as if nothing has changed, as if we haven’t been separated for ten too-long years.

Instead of replying something, I pull him closer and kiss him again. More gently, this time. It’s easier, now that the first desperateness, that first hard wave of need has subsided. It’s easier and so much harder at the same time because I suddenly realize that this is not enough.

I have to feel him. I have to make sure — for me and for him — that this is real, that we haven’t succumbed to a feverish dream in our burning desire to see each other again. I have to be closer to him, as close as possible.

As if he’s been reading my mind — but he probably just feels the same way — Jack’s grip on my waist intensifies and in a skillful movement, he pulls me into his lap so that I’m straddling him. I take his face in both of my hands and brush my lips over it, trailing down to his jaw and then up to his temple. Jack takes a deep breath and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. I press my lips there, on the very spot where I can feel his pulse. It’s always been hard to find because it’s much slower than a normal person’s. But now I can feel it distinctly. The pulsation of life.

When I touch him there, Jack gasps. Before I can even understand what’s going on, he’s pressing his lips against mine again, parting them with a practiced ease as if he’s spent his entire life kissing me. I close my eyes, melting against him. The tenderness is still there but now it’s mixing with need. Gasping for air, I deepen the kiss, slightly changing the angle. I can feel hot waves of  _want_  rushing through my body. Jack lets out something that could be a moan — but maybe it’s just a really loud gasp, I don’t know. Whatever it is, it seems to wake him up from his lethargy.

As his grip on my hip intensifies again and he trails one of his hands up my side, I inhale sharply. The cold emanating from him seeps through my clothes, mixing with the heat of my own body. I’m hot and cold at the same time, groaning slightly into the kiss. As if that was some kind of signal, Jack suddenly turns me around so that I’m lying on my back, staring up into his blue eyes. For a moment, he only looks at me with slightly glazed eyes before he kisses me again. My hands wander into his hair and to the small of his back, pressing him closer, while his fingers work on the buttons of my waistcoat.

I break the kiss, panting, to tell him that I need him, here and now, but Jack takes the opportunity to press his lips to my collarbone and bite it. Immediately, I am wax in his hands.

My winter spirit chuckles slightly; of course he knows all my weaknesses, has long since mapped them and learned them by heart. Even ten years of separation can’t change that and I doubt anything ever will.

As Jack licks over the spot he bit, I bite down on my lip so hard that I taste blood again. Too many touches after too much time without them and it’s still not enough and  _God_ , I need him. I pull him back up and while he takes off my waistcoat that he managed to get open without me even noticing, I whisper into his ear:

“Jack… Please…” Jack’s answer is another bruising kiss. I take a breath as his cold fingers push up my white long-sleeved shirt and brush over my heated skin. All my nerve endings seem to be charged up, overwhelmed of being touched so tenderly after not having felt this for such a long time, but thankfully, that’s not a reason for me to stay inactive. One of my hands reaches up and wanders under Jack’s hoodie and he gasps as my warm fingers meet his skin. Hot and cold at the same time, against all rules and regulations but we never gave a damn about them anyway.

I belong to him and he belongs to me and that’s the only rule we need. The only rule that means anything.

Jack laboriously takes off my shirt and frees himself from the hoodie, too.  I gasp quietly when I look at his torso. Pale and rawboned, too thin, but experience has taught me that there is hard muscle underneath that skin, well-trained and so very alluring. I run my hands over his flat belly and Jack shudders slightly, a shiver running through his entire body, muscles contracting beneath my fingertips. Then, he presses his lips to my chest and trails soft kisses down to my bellybutton. My moan is nothing but a needy whimper and Jack’s only reaction to it is a soft smirk against my skin and his hand on the bulge between my legs. I gasp, arching my back, but he clings to me and kisses me again — harder, even more desperate than before. And then, his hand is inside my pants.

I shiver violently as cool fingers wrap around my erection. The icy touch pierces through my skin and I should be so, so cold — but I’m not. One the contrary, the cool prickle just adds up to my need and Jack doesn’t need more than a few well-trained flicks of his wrist until I’m already cumming in his hand. On another occasion, I’d be embarrassed about this but right now, I can’t imagine anything to be more hot than Jack, looking at me with a mix of surprise and want, his hand still between my legs.

“You…,” he begins, his voice so raw and deep that I can feel it vibrating through my body. I cut him off by kissing him.

It’s not enough. I’m hot, much too hot, and I need him, need his cold, need the alleviation it promises.

Jack seems to share this need because he unceremoniously starts pulling off my pants until he fails miserably at the red Converse I’m wearing. I chuckle slightly as I quickly undo my shoelaces and kick down pants and shoes along with my socks and undress him too, while I’m at it. For the first time, I lay eyes on his penis; he’s just as aroused as I am.

Naked as we are, we just sit opposite each other for a moment, staring at each other as if seeing it for the first time. I can feel butterflies fluttering through my body as my eyes wander over his chest and his abdomen hungrily, memorizing every inch of his skin. How could I ever forget him? This perfect creature with pale skin and piercing azure eyes that I love more than anything in this world?

A choked noise escapes my throat and I pull him close again, burying my face into his bony shoulder. Jack moans as our bodies touch — he’s still hard and I’m growing more aroused very moment. I can feel his lips on my jaw, my neck, my collarbone and then there’s the cool prickle of snow on my skin.

“It’s snowing,” I remark, caught between a laugh and a gasp because I’m on the verge of fainting from sensory overload.

“Sorry,” Jack whispers with a smile that’s equally embarrassed and mischievous. The snow stops and he licks the droplets of water from my skin where the snowflakes have melted. I swallow and feel myself getting hard again, blood rushing violently into my loins. Then I wrap my own fingers around Jack’s member and grin as he inhales audibly.

“Damn it, Jamie…” Again, I find myself lying on my back, breathless, Jack on top of me, his lips on mine, my tongue against his. His fingers curl around my erection again, grinding down. I return every move, every touch. He moans into my ear as he lets go of me and his hand wanders deeper, towards the curve of my ass.

The noise that escapes my throat as I feel his suddenly icy fingers on my entrance is an inarticulate mixture of a moan and a surprised gasp. I’ve completely forgotten how this feels — his fingers, coated in a thin layer of ice that melts on my skin and works better than any lube because he can recreate it as many times as he wants. When the first finger enters me, the cold surrounding it is such an extreme contrast to the arousing heat that pulses through my body that for a moment, I see stars. I can hardly think straight, caught up in lust and need, but I don’t let go of him, pumping his length in the same rhythm he is widening me. A second finger and his lips on mine, on my skin. With each touch, a thousand sweet shivers run through me, too hot and too cold and shit, if this continues, I’ll be cumming again in no time.

“Jack,” I groan. “I can’t… please…”

“I don’t want to hu—“

“ _Please_.” For a moment, he hesitates, and then he nods and slowly withdraws his fingers. I sigh at the loss and make a bit more place for him between my legs — strictly speaking, this sofa is much too narrow for his sort of activity but none of us could care less — and then our eyes meet. There is lust and maybe even concern in Jack’s azure eyes and the remains of an unspoken despair that we both feel equally.

When I feel him at my entrance, hard and cool, I suddenly pray that this is not a dream. It can’t be a dream, a phantom, an illusion because I know that it would break me. Ten years without him, years filled with loneliness and an endless search, and then realizing that finding him was just a dream is more than I can take. I would just fall apart.

As he enters me, I arch into him, moaning loudly, but Jack is right there, holding me close, whispering sweet nothings that I don’t understand in my ear. In my mind, somewhere between heat and lust, there is only one clear thought:  _This is real. It’s not just my imagination. It’s real._

Jack pants as he thrusts into me, burying himself completely, but he doesn’t move just yet. He gives me time to adjust while he just looks at me, eyes filled with so much love that my heart skips a beat and my chest feels far too tight. Then, he bends down to me, both hands propped on the sides of my head, and kisses me, slowly starting to move.

Each in and out is bittersweet pain, heat and cold and too many memories of a life that isn’t mine anymore, lying in the arms of the boy I have lost and found again. I wrap my arms around Jack and kiss him as if there’s no tomorrow, as if this was a farewell and not a reunion. And somehow, it really is a farewell, a farewell to everything we have been up until now — for we are no longer a human boy and an immortal spirit that fell in love. We’re more than that because the boy and his winter spirit are history now.

What remains is us — him and I, not just Jack Frost and the Fabler but two souls that belong together.

“ _I love you_.”

I don’t know if I’m the one to whisper these words or if it’s Jack breathing them in my ear, eyes half-lidded and his cheeks a dark shade of violet. Maybe we’re saying them together just like the following “Love you, too”. It doesn’t matter who it is because either way, these words and Jack’s cold fingers on my almost hurting erection are what pushes me over the edge. My orgasm washes over me with the force of a tsunami and I cum again, this time with Jack’s name on my lips. Jack follows shortly after, breathing hard and buried deep inside me, before he all but collapses on top of me, his head on my chest, his ear directly above my heartbeat.

For a while, we just stay where we are while we regain our breath and our heartbeats calm down, then, Jack pulls out of me and bends over me to pick up something from the floor. As it turns out, it’s the blanket that must have slipped from the sofa at some time. He pulls it over us and lies back down on my chest, his arms hugging my waist, possessive and affectionate at the same time.

We don’t talk but we don’t have to. Both of us know that this is a new beginning, a second chance — our Forever that we always wanted and that’s never been possible.

But now, now it is.

And I’ll be damned if I don’t make the best of this gift the Man in the Moon has granted us.


End file.
